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She offers me a tentative smile, and I just stare at her.
“You look incredible.”
When she tucks her chin, a faint flush washing into her cheeks, I lift her chin and shake my head. “No, you don’t bow your head to anyone. You hold your head up and accept the praise due to you.”
My response throws her off. Her mouth pops open as she looks up at me. But she says nothing.
I hold my arm out for her to grasp. “Let’s go to dinner.”
The restaurant is one I’ve never been to, but Soo booked it. And he’s picky as fuck about his food, so it must be good. We are seated immediately, and instead of sitting across from her, I crowd into her side of the booth so we can sit closer.
The drinks arrive quickly, and I try to think of something neutral I can use to make conversation.
But while I’m thinking, she’s already planned out what she wants to say. I can tell by the way she folds her hands and refolds them around the stem of her wine glass. “I want to talk to you again about your plan for revenge.”
I don’t want to ruin her evening or her mood, so I shake my head. “It’s not up for debate or conversation.”
“Are you telling me I’m not allowed to have an opinion?” She bites out, staring down into her glass.
I cup my own lowball of whiskey, knowing this date is not going to go as I originally planned. “I did not say that. You took my request not to discuss a topic as my telling you that you can’t discuss any topic. I’d be thrilled to discuss anything else.”
She straightens and angles toward me. “Okay, then let’s talk about me leaving your house.”
I sigh and shake my head. “We’re outside of the house right now.”
“No, I mean alone. On my own.”
It’s obvious she’s baiting me. I just don’t know if it’s because she wants to have a fight or if she’s hoping to push me into talking about what she wants to talk about. Either way, it won’t work. While my control is notoriously thin when I’m around her, things have changed between us, and her care is now my priority.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go anywhere alone. Not while people out there are trying to get to you or get to me by taking you.”
“Great, so you kidnap me, and now I’m even more locked down than before because you took me.” Her tone is icy, and she won’t look at me.
I shake my head. “I’m not trying to keep you prisoner anymore. But I have to keep you safe at all costs. If something happens to you…” I trail off, my throat tight. “To be clear, I won’t allow anything to happen to you.”
She exhales heavily, her shoulders slumping. “I want to believe you. And strangely, after the time we’ve been spending together, I even want to give you what you want from me. But I can’t, not when you’re keeping me from the only thing I’ve asked for. Not when you’re keeping me confined for your own ends. How can we ever be equals?”
“Who says we’ll ever be equals?” I drag her hands between mine and kiss her knuckles. “You’ll be my queen. And queens are always more cared for, more respected, and more feared than their kings.”
“No one will ever fear me.”
I study her face. “Do you want people to fear you?” It’s not a question I’d usually ask, but I’m genuinely curious about her answer. “I know you have your own injustices, your own desires for revenge.”
When her jaw hardens, and she dashes her eyes away, I know I’ve got her. “Tell me what you’re thinking. I want to know.”
She clears her throat and shifts beside me again. Instead of letting her fidget, I draw her into my side, hugging her against me. “When Lucas had me at his house, he said my father killed my sister. He said that when she wouldn’t marry the man he wanted and ran away, he killed her.”
“What are you saying? Do you want me to confirm what he told you or tell you what you want to hear?”
“I—”
The wait staff brings our dinner and sets our plates in front of us. She clamps her mouth shut and shifts away from me to eat her food.
As the server places a basket of bread on the table, he brushes against her hand. They both jerk away, but a flash of heated anger hits me before I realize what’s happening.
He must see his death in my eyes as I toss my napkin on the table and stare him down.
His sense of self-preservation is good because the man flees our table toward the kitchen. I’m two seconds from chasing after him, demanding to know if he’d done it on purpose. Even if his touch was an accident, I can’t abide another man touching Celia. Not alone, not in front of me, not under any circumstances.
